Wall Clock/Snowstorm
By Dillon Collins
My words float outward like the snow that's falling down,
Falling upon deaf ears like the snow hitting ground.
Not that I'm better, blessed or privileged.
It's some thoughts to lay out, scabs to rip off, if you want to listen.
So surreal this moment, in the passage of time.
Drift scitter sideways, mind unwind.
Wall clock, tick tock, hanging so fragile.
How quickly the hands of time unravel.
Scalpel cut deeply with the deterioration of time,
tick tock waver neatly, death song sublime.
Winding down, who knew? I didn't see that coming.
Ice dreams into pools, rivers liquid and running.
Tick tock winter day, the roads are getting sloppy.
Sequestered in silence just me and my coffee...
My future is presently converting to my past,
but I plow on through the snow as if life is held fast.
I'm first to tell you that I don't have it all together,
I'm just coffee drink dreaming, staring out at the weather.
White snow piling up, covering the dirt.
But I still know it's there and it still really hurts.
And yet She loves me? And is going to be my Wife?
I've had to many white snow blessings in this dirt dust life.
I'll never understand it and I won't pretend to.
Don't make no kind sense in light of what I've been through.
This is my life with beauty aligned.
Not the stars, but God with a purpose designed.
Well I read and you listened.
at least part of that statement is true.
Thank you for sharing in my thoughts,
my coffee dreamtime renew...
